


The Real Housewives of Starling City

by keysburg



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Nosy Neighbors, don't mess with donna though, inspired by domestic!olicity, not actually smutty sorry, of course that won't work out well for them, rated M for mentions of sex, the suburbs are hell, what would you think if oliver queen moved into your neighborhood though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:05:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4857332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keysburg/pseuds/keysburg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's always been lots of gossip about the Queen Family in Starling City.  When Oliver Queen, former billionaire, possible vigilante, shacks up with a girl in the suburbs, people are bound to talk.  And maybe scheme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Real Housewives of Starling City

Megan was finishing her Monday night elliptical workout when she got a text from Angelina.

 _OMG just got off the phone w Katie, guess who her new neighbor is??_

_I hate to guess._ Megan replied. 

_OLIVER queen and that blonde twinkie who was his secretary before he lost queen cons.!_

_how cliche, i guess you can take the man from the ceo but you can't take the ceo outta the man_

_Men are dogs_ , came the reply. 

So. Playboy Oliver Queen, accused multiple times of being The Vigilante, was playing house in her neighborhood. That was interesting. The house next to Katie's had been empty since the McMasters left for Central City. It was a nice place but rather modest in this neighborhood. Queen must have some dough squirreled away overseas to buy a house after his so-called bankruptcy... but was the house his way of looking modest, or was it all he could afford now? Inquiring minds wanted to know these things.

Megan was dragging herself out of bed for her hideously early tennis lesson the next morning when she had her own sighting. He went jogging down the road in knee length shorts and a green hoodie, the hood up like he was trying to hide. It didn’t work, and the casual clothes did nothing to hide the width of his chest or how tight his ass was.

It was the ass she thought of later. Marco, her tennis coach, had her bent over the desk of her office during their usual post-lesson boink. Her mind had been wandering more and more during their trysts as Marco was a fairly uninventive lover. The novelty of sex in the country club offices had long worn off. Thinking of Queen's ass bouncing down her street helped though, and she started to imagine how good it would look if he was in Marco's place right now. Then she thought about the kind of rage a former billionaire (and maybe ex-vigilante) might have to work off between the sheets.

It was the most satisfying “coaching” session she had had that month.

She caught him going by a couple more times that week, before tennis and when she was on her way to her lawyer's. It was her final meeting with that bootlicker before the hearing for her divorce. Now that would be an event worth celebrating, and not with Marco. Maybe Queen could help with that. First, she'd have to greet her new neighbors. Well, one of them. She had no desire to make small talk with the blonde girl Queen was shacked up with.

* * *

Fortunately the rumor mill was buzzing with info about the Queen household when Megan went to book club on Sunday afternoon.

"From Brian's room I can see over the fence into the back yard," Katie said. "I saw him doing something that looked like Taekwondo... but he was holding a sword. Shirtless. He has so many scars. He could be The Arrow after all, or maybe he's just in some sort of billionaire fight club."

"That uses swords?" Megan asked, raising an eyebrow. "That seems unlikely." A swordsman was more interesting than a tennis coach, even a 20-something tennis coach who was so pretty it hurt. 

"Apparently he came home from the east with those scars," said Angelina. "Margo works in the office of the doctor who examined him when he was found. She snuck a peek at his medical files, and said he even had a tattoo that looked like Russian prison ink."

"Some of them were fresh though," Katie said. "Still red, less than a year old. He's been back for four years now."

"Maybe he's just into pain," Megan mused thoughtfully. She could get into that. "What about that blonde twinkie of his? Does she seem like the type..?" Katie made a face at her.

"Honestly, Megan, your mind goes to the worst places. No, she's totally smitten with him, but I don't see it. And she's not a twinkie. She's really smart, and she's CEO of Palmer Technologies! Or she was, or something. She talks so fast that when I had her over for coffee I only got about half the story. Something about stepping down and Palmer being her ex boyfriend--"

"Wait, let's get this straight. She was Queen's personal assistant when he took over Queen Consolidated. Then after Palmer Tech came to town, she started dating another billionaire? And Palmer made her, his girlfriend, CEO. And he’s now presumed dead in a fiery explosion, leaving the company in her control? Katie dear, even your trusting heart must find that a little suspicious." Megan said the last bit sarcastically to cover her surprise. That was way more manipulation and guile she would have given the blonde credit for. Or maybe the whole thing was Queen's idea, using his tartlet to manipulate Palmer and ultimately let him recoup the company that had bought his out? A man that intelligent and ruthless (and now probably rich again, even if by proxy)... that was something she could sink her teeth into.

Katie was clearly starting to get annoyed with her. "Not everyone is as devious as you, Megan, or even close. Just because you'd be willing to kill over a fortune, doesn't mean everyone would."

"Oh don't be silly, Katie dear. Why kill anyone when a good prenup gets you almost as much and with no threat of jail time attached?" 

Angelina was giggling at their sniping as Katie huffed out a sigh and rolled eyes.

"Well, I liked her," Katie said. "She seems sweet. I was going to invite her today but I was afraid you would tear her apart. Obviously I was right about that."

"Ask her to yoga on Wednesday," Angelina suggested. "I'll be on my best behavior."

"I thought about that too, but apparently while most days she works from home, on Wednesdays she actually goes into the office. You'll all just have to wait for the block party next weekend to size her up, I guess."

So then Queen would be home alone on Wednesday, since he rarely left the house. That would be worth missing yoga for.

When the day came around, Megan settled on a mini skirted dress but went with flat sandals to not look like she was trying too hard. Her ass looked great anyway. She added a long necklace to draw attention to the bottom of her deep v neckline. She grabbed a plate of muffins she had her chef prepare, and sauntered over to the old McMasters' place to ring the bell.

It took a minute, but he answered the door in nothing but a pair of athletic shorts. Even his feet were bare and a light sheen of sweat was visible on his skin. He looked even better than she had imagined, and she couldn’t help the smirk that formed on her face, although he looked uninterested, or at least distracted.

“Oh, dear, it looks like I caught you at a bad time! I just wanted to say hello, welcome to the neighborhood, all that.” She smiled as demurely as she could manage, leaning her upper body forward slightly and bringing the muffins just under her chest.

He didn’t take the bait, not even a quick glance at her impressive cleavage.

“I’m afraid it is a bad time, Mrs…?” 

“Oh we’re neighbors! I live in 554; you can call me Megan. And I’m single,” she said, offering the plate of muffins. He took them, not looking them either and set them on a table next to the door. 

“I appreciate you stopping by,” he said, in a tone that implied anything but appreciation. “But it really is a bad time.” Megan knew when to cut bait so she stuck out her hand. 

“I’ll be going then; it was nice to meet you though..?” He took her hand, shaking it briefly. 

“Oliver. Have a nice day.” The door shut, probably with a bit more force than was warranted. Well. She had heard that Oliver Queen was generally standoffish with strangers. She’d have to figure out a way to make them not be strangers anymore. 

* * *

Block parties weren’t her normal scene, but Megan was willing to make an exception this time. When she was finished getting ready she found what she had expected outside: most of the women were on one side of the street, supervising the bounce house and some kids on bikes. The tartlet was standing over by Katie, who was watching her kids. The men were mostly on the other side, tending a row of grills. Queen looked distinctly uncomfortable in a polo shirt and khakis, like he was wearing a costume. Megan sighed. It would work better to let him get a couple beers in first. 

She went to the third and smallest group: couples with children old enough to run unsupervised huddled around the makeshift bar. Angelina’s husband, Roberto, was mixing drinks with his usual flair.

“You know what I like, Roberto,” she said.

“Vodka martini, extra dirty, coming right up,” he winked at her as he set a couple drinks on the bar for another couple to grab.

The first two martinis went down way too quickly, to the point even Roberto said she should drink the third one a little slower. She rolled her eyes as this, even as a woman she didn’t recognize walked up to the bar and asked for a vodka and lime. She looked out of place entirely, wearing a cheap dress so tight you could see her ribs and entirely too short for a woman her age. Her hair was big and her makeup expertly applied, even if the entire look was too much. When Megan introduced herself she expected a Southern accent, but the woman - Donna - had no accent. She was from Las Vegas--that explained the look--and was visiting family in the neighborhood. Before Megan could figure out which of her neighbors had such a common relative, Donna moved the conversation on. 

“And what do you do, Megan?” Donna asked her.

“Oh, I’m on the board of a couple different charities here in town.” Megan took a big sip of her drink and tried to pretend that she wanted to be there. 

“But how do you pay the rent, honey?” Donna wanted to know. Megan gave her a tight smile.

“My divorce should go through in a couple weeks. I’m supposed to get both the house and the Jag. My ex, Rick, is just keeping the Tesla.” 

“Oh, well, I’m sorry to hear of your troubles.” The woman actually sounded like she meant it. “Men are dogs, aren’t they?”

“Well, don’t worry about it too much. The resale on Teslas is still garbage right now and I made sure to get the jacuzzi upgraded before I had him served with papers. Besides, there are plenty of fish in the sea.” Megan turned to scrutinize the men still clustered around the grills. 

“Plenty of fish, to be sure, but are there any fresh ones?” Donna asked. “Lay it out for me, who are the contenders?”

“Hmm. The rumor is that Marcus Ferguson there in the blue shirt will be on the market again very soon. There’s an infidelity clause in his prenup too, and I happen to know his wife has been a very bad girl. And he’s minted but I understand he has… performance issues. Which doesn’t give me much to work with.”

“What about the guy standing next to him, in black? He’s very handsome.”

“Douglas Ford, yes, he broke it off with his previous fiancee about six months ago. But no one's quite sure what happened to his second wife. Supposedly she moved off to Coast City in the middle of the night, but no one has heard from her since. She’s not even collecting the alimony--suspicious. Too risky.”

“He does seem slightly creepy,” said Donna. “He keeps moving into the personal space of others, forcing them to move away from him.”

“Yes. Who needs to deal with that? Besides, I’d always wonder if his wife was out there and if she came back, then you’re dealing with a Fatal Attraction scenario. No thanks.” 

“What about that rugged-looking blond guy? Green shirt?”

“Travis Curtis. Sadly still married, maybe more of a long-term investment, if you get my drift. I don’t have time for that kind of commitment right now. Now, the guy he’s talking to, you probably know who that is already,” Megan was happy to see that someone was looking a lot more relaxed, talking to Travis, probably about hiking. That was all Travis normally talked about.

“Oliver Queen, sure. But it looks like he’s pretty serious about someone already,” Donna observed, smiling for some reason. It was true, the tartlet had just brought Queen another beer and was sliding under his arm to snuggle up next to him. 

“Yeah, I guess they’re shacked up for now. I doubt a girl like her could hold his attention for long… after he realizes what his other options are,” Megan smiled cattily. She missed the change in Donna’s expression.

“What do you mean, ‘a girl like her’?”

“Oh you know, just young, inexperienced, no doubt asks for too much and for what? Skinny little blondes like her are a dime a dozen and completely intercha--” Megan’s tirade was cut off when Donna’s fist suddenly collided with her eye socket. And then Megan was on the ground, with no idea how that happened. Or where the people standing above her came from. One of them was the tartlet, pulling Donna out of the crowd and whispering to her fiercely.

“Megan dear, I think you have had too many. Maybe go in and lie down?” Angelina said, helping her up. 

“What, no, I’m not drunk, it was--” Megan swayed, only to find herself in the arms of Queen himself. 

“Shush, we’ll get you in where you can lie down,” he said. He was smiling but his eyes were curiously blank. He lifted her and carried her right into her house, lying her down on her couch. He vanished for a moment, returning with ice packed into a dish towel, which he set over her eye. 

“I’m not sure what you said to Donna,” he said quietly. “But since she’s one of the sweetest people on earth, you probably deserved it. I suggest you keep your distance from us--all of us.” His eyes were cold, looking right through her.

“No--what? She hit me! Entirely unprovoked! My lawyer--” 

“Megan. No one saw what happened. All your neighbors think you are drunk. I suggest you let it stay that way. I may not be a CEO anymore, but I still know some pretty fine lawyers. They aren’t above dragging your name through the mud and painting you as a woman who gets into drunken brawls with her neighbors. Which would likely be detrimental to your entire… lifestyle.” He arched an eyebrow at her and waited. She thought about it for a moment. Something about him made her realize this was not a man that could be manipulated, and she probably shouldn’t push it. She nodded and he left without a word. After a moment she heard him speaking to the others outside. 

Well. She was never going to live this down.

She should probably move.


End file.
